Better Decision Making
by Pawthorn
Summary: What the people of Camelot lack in common sense, they make up for with strength, courage, and melodrama. But this series of one-shots explores what might happen if our favorite characters made better choices. Spoilers abound. Now: Intervention
1. A KindaSadButNotQuiteWicked Day

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

As Gaius stared sadly at the body of his king, he caught sight of a glint of metal around the dead man's neck. Looking closer, he saw that it was a necklace with a symbol of the old religion hanging from it. He briefly considered trying to somehow take it off and smuggle it out of the room without Gwen or Arthur seeing, but then shook his head at his own foolishness. What good could possibly come from hiding it? Instead he gently pulled the charm from beneath the king's shirt.

"What is that?" Arthur asked. Despite his grief, his forehead puckered in confusion.

"I'm not sure," Gaius replied, "It looks like a symbol of the Old Religion. Did the sorcerer place this on your father?"

"No, he couldn't have, I would have seen him," Arthur answered, shaking his head.

"Sorcerer?" asked Gwen in confusion.

"Yes," Arthur sighed, "I tried to use magic to heal my father. You must think me a hypocrite... "

"Arthur, he's your father, I know you would've done anything to save him," she glanced at Gaius, "But if the sorcerer that tried to heal Uther didn't bring that necklace, where did it come from? Is it a healing charm?"

"I'm afraid not," said the physician, grimly, "It's quite the opposite. As far as I can tell, it has been enchanted to reverse the effects of any healing spell."

"What?" gasped Arthur, "So you're saying…"

"Someone knew that you were going to use magic to heal your father," Gaius gently pulled the necklace off of the king and handed it to Arthur, "They placed this charm on him to prevent that from happening. Uther didn't stand a chance."

"So, if it hadn't been for this," Arthur stared blankly at the pendant in his hand, "The sorcerer's spell would've worked. My father would have been saved."

"I believe so, sire," Gaius answered.

"But…" Gwen shook her head, "I've been here the whole time. I would've seen someone slip it on him. No one had the opportunity… except…"

Arthur bowed his head. "It was my uncle, wasn't it?"

"I'm so sorry Arthur," Gwen said, tears forming in her eyes, "If I'd have known—"

"You did nothing wrong, Gwen. He's deceived us all, and he will pay for it." Righteous anger flared in Arthur's eyes, then he turned to the physician, "Thank you, Gaius. If you hadn't told me this, I would've made a grave mistake. I only wish I knew where to find that sorcerer. I need to ask his forgiveness and tell him that my promise to him will be kept."

At that moment, Merlin stumbled into the room, looking distraught.

"Don't worry, sire." Gaius said, sending his ward a reassuring smile, "I'm sure he won't be too hard to find."

* * *

_AN: I had to write this after my thoughts went from, "Why did Gaius take the necklace off Uther?" to "How the heck did Gaius get the necklace off Uther?" Merlin didn't even see him do it! Well, hope you enjoy this, and I will soon post another story rectifying the poor choices of Camelot's citizens._


	2. Bracelets

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

"Lancelot, it's lovely, really, and I'm very glad that you're not dead, but I'm getting married to Arthur in a few days, I shouldn't be accepting jewelry from other men, and I'm not much of a bracelet person anyway. So thanks, but no thanks."

_AN: Do you think that someone who's been a servant all their life would even be comfortable wearing wrist jewelry? I don't._


	3. The Master: Part 1

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

"Guinevere!" Arthur shouted.

"Arthur!" Gwen said, quickly averting her eyes from the king's… state of undress. He hastily covered himself with a pillow.

"Gauis," Arthur acknowledged the physician with a nod, trying to regain his composure, "You're not Merlin."

"No," Gwen began nervously. She considered making up some excuse for why Merlin wasn't there, and why Arthur must NOT get in the bath. Instead, she met Gauis' eyes, silently pleading for permission to end this deception. After a moment of hesitation, she received a small nod in answer.

"Arthur, get some clothes on," she said seriously, "We need to talk."

* * *

_A/N: In A Servant of Two Masters, the idea of telling Arthur what's wrong with Merlin isn't even mentioned, and this annoyed me. I guess they couldn't mention it if they didn't want Arthur involved, because it would obviously be a good idea to tell him, especially from Gwen perspective. Ah well, it was still an awesome episode. There is a Part 2 of this on its way._


	4. The Master: Part 2

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

"So that," said Arthur, staring in disgust at the squirming lump on the back of Merlin's neck, "Is making Merlin want to kill me?"

"A sorcerer of great skill planted the fomorrah with that in mind, yes," Gaius sighed, looking at his ward, unconscious on the table, "His mind is enslaved. He won't stop until he's accomplished his goal."

Arthur turned away from the table and began to pace, unconsciously gripping the hilt of his sword. He felt sick, but more than that, he was angry. Someone had betrayed him to Morgana. Who else had the power to do such a thing? What other enemy would recognize the value of controlling his servant? Someone had served him to the witch on a platter, and now, Merlin was paying for it. Morgana had taken his servant and twisted him for her purposes. Arthur's only friend was being used against him by his greatest enemy. If Gaius and Gwen hadn't noticed something wrong… he shuddered to think of what would've happened to him and to Merlin.

"Can't we just cut it out?" the king said desperately.

"We tried that," said Gwen, looking at Merlin anxiously.

"It appears that if we kill one, another will grow in its place," said Gaius as he prepared some sort of poultice, "I've heard such stories in the past, but never thought they were true," the physician dabbed the back of Merlin's neck, "That'll silence it for a awhile."

Gaius held a small, smoking canister up to Merlin's face. Before Arthur could ask what it was, Merlin was coughing, gagging, and sitting up.

"What is that?" he spat indignantly, "Arthur's socks?" The servant looked around, and for the first time since the rock fall, Arthur saw his old friend, the real Merlin. He let out a chuckle of relief. Merlin glared at the three of them suspiciously, "What are you trying to do to me?"

"I'm trying to stop you from killing the king!" Gaius snapped. Merlin's eye darted around until he saw Arthur, and he laughed nervously shaking his head slightly. Arthur laughed in return.

His smile flew from his face when his servant swayed dangerously and nearly fell off the table.

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___A/N: Yup, there are more parts coming. Sorry if the ending of last chapter was confusing. I swear when more parts are up, it will make more sense._  



	5. The Master: Part 3

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

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Arthur watched as his servant scarfed down the meal in front of him. Apparently, the fomorrah had been too intent on killing the King to make sure that its host ate. Yet another injury to hold against Morgana and whoever had given her the information that led to his friend's capture.

"So, you don't remember anything?" asked Gaius.

"I remember Morgana conjuring the snake" Merlin glanced around, slightly unnerved at having the attention of Arthur and Gaius fixed on him. "But, nothing more."

"Lucky for us you're such a bad assassin," Gaius said dryly. Arthur couldn't help but snort.

"All is well now," said Merlin, around a large mouthful of berries, "I feel fine."

"For now," concern was evident in Gaius' voice, "The serpent is dormant, but once it wakes your mind will be Morgana's once more and nothing will stop you from trying to kill Arthur." The King's stomach churned at the thought.

"How do we get rid of it, if it keeps growing back?" Arthur asked.

"There's only one way, I'm afraid," Gaius looked between the king and his servant seriously, "You have to kill the mother beast."

Merlin's eyes hardened, "The creature that lives in Morgana's hut."

"How long has he got," said Arthur nervously, "How long before that thing wakes up?"

"A day, no more," Gauis answered. Arthur's mind was suddenly taken back to years ago and another quest, for a flower, not a snake. This time he wouldn't be saving the life of his idiotic servant, but the soul of his closest friend.

"Well, I'd better get going then," Arthur said, striding towards the door.

"But Arthur, you can't face her alone," Merlin said, following after his master.

"Who do you suggest I take with me, Merlin?" the King allowed his frustration to cover his concern, "No one else can no about this, you'd be useless-"

"Hey!" Merlin said indignantly.

"And Gaius has to stay here with you," Arthur finished.

"As much as you dislike it, Arthur, you'll need help," Gaius insisted, "Magical help."

Arthur stared. "Gaius, you can't be suggesting…"

"I know his help failed before, but I have reason to believe that Morgana was working against him," Gaius sighed regretfully, sharing a significant glance with his ward, "I fear the only one who can help you free Merlin, is the sorcerer Dragoon."

* * *

_A/N: I had to. And yes, there are more parts coming. Hopefully now that I'm veering further from the script of the show, things will be a bit more interesting._


	6. The Master: Part 4

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

Slipping out of the city had been easy, too easy— Arthur made a mental note to do some extra training with the guards. Finding his way to Dragoon's house had been simple as well, even without Merlin there to guide him. Entering the hated place was not so easy. Emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he remembered the last time he was there, full of grief and rage after his father's death, desperate to get revenge by ending the old sorcerer's life but unable to find the old traitor. Even so, the king couldn't help but be impressed by Dragoon's boldness in returning to the hut after the initial search. The old magician hid in plain sight while Arthur had scoured the kingdom for him. Gaius had trusted Arthur with the location of the fugitive after convincing him that he couldn't face Morgana alone. Still, Arthur wasn't sure he could go through with this. Could he face the man who had killed his father—purposefully or not—without striking him down? Could he trust Merlin's life to a sorcerer? Could he face Morgana with this man by his side?

Arthur steeled himself. He had to do this. If he faced the witch alone, she would certainly kill him, or worse, turn him into her puppet as she had Merlin. Sometimes, in war, dangerous alliances had to be made. Resolutely, he pushed the door open.

Dragoon did not turn as the king entered. He sat by the hearth, looking older and more fragile than the last time Arthur had seen him.

"Sorcerer," he called, not bothering to thaw the ice in his voice.

The magician seemed to shrink at Arthur's call, but still, he rose to face the king. Slowly, he dragged his gaze from the floor to meet the eyes of his ruler. The guilt, despair, and sadness in the old conjuror's glance gave Arthur a jolt. He saw there, in his enemy's eyes, the same emotions that plagued him whenever he thought of his father's death. Gone was the proud, petulant sorcerer he had met here before. The man before him was old and sad and weary. For a moment, he forgot his wrath, but the old man tore his gaze away almost immediately, falling to his knees at Arthur's feet.

"I do not ask your forgiveness," Dragoon's voice was little more that a whisper, his eyes cast on the floor, "I do not deserve it. But I—" tears were evident in the sorcerer's voice, though Arthur could not see his eyes, "I am so sorry. Uther's death was my fault. There was a spell working against me, and I could have seen it, I _should_ have, and I could have stopped it, if I had only… but it doesn't matter now." The sorcerer sighed, and looked up at Arthur with ancient eyes, "I am responsible, and I submit myself to your judgment."

Arthur looked away. He didn't know what to think. He wanted to hate and condemn this man, but...

He shook himself. Now was not the time—he a task to complete.

"You know why I'm here," he said, still not looking at the man before him.

"Yes," the reply was choked with emotion. Disappointment? Relief?

"And you will help me?"

"I will."

"Then follow me," Arthur turned and strode out the door, his feelings more confused and out of control than when he'd entered.

* * *

_A/N: More to follow._


	7. The Master: Part 5

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

Running into the knights was just bad luck. Fortunately, the scarlet capes were easy to spot from a distance, so he and the sorcerer quickly fell back. But now, their way was blocked. The king couldn't be seen traipsing through the forest with the second most feared and hated outlaw in the land. Arthur cursed under his breath.

"I'll handle this," Dragoon whispered, moving forward. He pulled up short as the king grabbed his arm to stop him.

"What are you going to do?" Suspicion laced Arthur's tone.

The sorcerer sighed, "I won't harm them," he answered, "Just… temporarily incapacitate them. You can circle around in and meet me on the far side of the clearing. I'll keep their attention so you won't be seen."

Arthur clenched his jaw; he didn't like trusting his knights to this man.

"Will you allow me to do this?" Dragoon caught the king's eye and held it.

Arthur looked over the old man appraisingly, "What if I was to say 'no?'"

"I'd find another way," The sorcerer's answer was immediate, "But I think approaching them directly would be safest for them and for you. And, as I understand it, we're rather short on time."

The king looked away and thought. He thought of his knights, their loyalty and bravery. He thought of his father, dying at this sorcerer's hands. He thought of Merlin, with a sleeping snake in his neck. He thought of what would happen if it woke and someone found out that a servant was trying to kill the king. He thought of familiar guilt and grief pouring from this old sorcerer's eyes, and apologies spilling from his lips.

"Alright," Arthur's voice was clipped, "But I'll be watching."

Dragoon nodded and stepped forward, right into the midst of the knights.

Arthur kept one eye and ear on the goings on in the clearing as he stealthily led his horse around it. He couldn't help but smirk at the way the old man goaded his knights. For the first time, the insolent old coot that Arthur had known before was back. The king had to restrain himself from running in to help his men when the sorcerer knocked all of the knights off of their feet. Fortunately, years of battle experience let him know that his men were dazed, not hurt. His jaw dropped slightly as Dragoon used his knights as a stepping stool to mount his horse. The old man was bold, Arthur had to give him that. The sorcerer approached and caught the king staring at him.

"What?" he said, as if he hadn't just taken down the most dangerous warriors in the land with less than a single blow. To be that unaware of his own power, what kind of idiot—

"Nothing," the king said quickly, cutting off the dangerous path his thoughts were headed down. Arthur mounted his horse. "We should keep moving."

The old wizard nodded and fell into step beside the king. Soon, they would arrive at the home of the witch, and Arthur would find out if he had once again made a grave error by placing his trust in magic.

* * *

_A/N: More to follow._


	8. The Master: Part 6

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

The witch's house was well hidden. The wooden door seemed to melt into the rest of the scenery; it was impossible to find, unless someone knew where to look. Thanks to Merlin, Arthur knew.

He and Dragoon observed the doorway from above, with the sorcerer looking to the king for a plan of attack. But before Arthur could make a move, the door of the hut swung open and out of it walked…

Agravaine.

Arthur stared in shock. His uncle had seemed so earnest, so heartfelt assuring Arthur that he would never betray him, never betray his mother's memory, and yet he had. Consorting with Morgana, feeding her information, implicating Gaius, aiding in Merlin's capture and enchantment, plotting to kill his own nephew—fury writhed in Arthur's chest as he watched Morgana follow his uncle from the house, watched the lingering look that passed between them before Agravaine strode away. Arthur grasped the hilt of his sword.

And was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

The king met Dragoon's eyes and was surprised at the emotion in the sorcerer's face. Sympathy, understanding, and also anger, but not directed at Arthur. He seemed to feel Agravaine's betrayal almost as much as the king himself did.

Arthur looked down at the hut once more. He had to get inside, get the fomorrah, and save Merlin. The witch was leaving; it was now or never. But he had just seen proof of his uncle's betrayal, and the traitor was getting away.

"Go," Dragoon whispered. Arthur turned to him in confusion. "Go after Agravaine. I'll get the fomorrah."

Arthur was torn. He needed to go after his uncle, to confront him now, but he also had to save his servant. Could he really trust Merlin's fate to this man?

Yes. He could. The answer surprised him, but he found that he truly trusted this sorcerer. He was beginning to suspect why he trusted Dragoon, why he kept going to him for help, why those looks of guilt and anger and understanding seemed so familiar. It was only a whisper of a thought, a bare, unlikely possibility that needed more time and thought to fully form. But he didn't have time right now.

He had a traitor to catch.

He gave the sorcerer a slight nod and set off after Agravaine.

* * *

"Uncle."

King Arthur's voice was soft and measured as he called to the man before him. Agravaine froze, and then turned back quickly, a surprised smile lighting his features. Arthur wondered how he had ever thought it was genuine.

"Arthur," Agravaine said, approaching his king with caution, "What brings you here?"

"The traitor," Arthur said simply. He struggled to keep a look of satisfaction off of his face as he watched his uncle pale, "I needed to clear my head, give the matter more serious consideration. So I came here, to the scene of the crime, so to speak."

"Ah…" said Agravaine, looking slightly relieved but still very uncomfortable.

"I was just thinking," Arthur continued, looking at the forest around him contemplatively, "If Gaius was the traitor, why would he go to all this trouble just to kill me?"

"Sire?" Agravaine said innocently.

"Well, he is the Court Physician. He could've given me poison any time, saying it was a tonic. Why try to kill me now, and why use mercenaries?"

"Well, if you died from poisoning, suspicion would be aroused—"

"Uncle, Gaius is the only one in Camelot with the knowledge to identify a poison. If he said I took ill and died suddenly of a fever, no one would question it."

This reasoning gave the traitor pause. "It could be that he did not mean for you to die," Agravaine said smoothly, "Maybe he was simply paid for information by one of your enemies—"

"Like Morgana?"

Agravaine started and nearly fell over at Arthur's interruption.

"Yes," he said, eyeing his nephew cautiously. "I suppose… or one of the neighboring kingdoms, or the druids…"

"You're right of course," Arthur said, nodding. His uncle visibly relaxed. "But why would he allow Merlin to accompany me if he knew we would be attacked? Gaius loves him like a son."

"Perhaps he does not care for the boy as much as you believe," his uncle stepped closer, and Arthur forced himself not to pull away, "Or… maybe your servant is a traitor as well."

"No," Arthur's voice was hard. He had been enjoying toying with Agravaine, watching the treacherous snake squirm, but he would not listen to anyone accuse Merlin of treason. "Merlin was nearly killed in the fight." Arthur gritted his teeth at the memory of seeing Merlin on the ground, thinking he'd been killed, and then seeing the wound… "A mace bashed his chest in. If he's betrayed me, then he's a worse traitor than he is a servant because he almost died on the spot—"

"And then returned whole and well a few days later with no explanation of where he'd been," Agravaine looked patronizing and sympathetic as he had a few days ago when he'd tried to get Arthur to give up on Merlin, "And hasn't he been acting… unusual since he returned?"

Arthur's anger at his uncle nearly boiled over. It was time to end this game.

"Actually, he has," Arthur said quietly, "Because he's been enchanted," Fear grew in his uncle's eyes as he continued, "You see, there _is_ an explanation of where he was. After we were separated, he was captured and taken to Morgana. She healed him, and stuck something called a fomorrah in his neck. She's using it to control him, to make him kill me." Agravaine's eyes were wide, his body rigid, "Fortunately, Gaius and Gwen found the snake and took it out, but it'll keep growing back until the mother beast is killed. It's in Morgana's hut, but you must know that already. After all," Arthur dropped his mask and let the fury inside him show as he stepped toward the traitor. "You've just come from there."

"Arthur, I…" Agravaine's eyes darted around, looking for an escape, another trick or lie or deception to save him. But there was nothing. "I'm sorry. Let me explain." He moved toward Arthur, one hand extended beseechingly.

Then the other hand slashed forward with a dagger.

Years of training and newfound suspicion saved Arthur. He dodged to the side, grabbed his uncle's arm, and pulled, using his attacker's own momentum to send him sprawling forward. Agravaine landed heavily on the ground face down. Arthur quickly drew his own sword and prepared for another attack. None came. His uncle remained where he'd fallen. Cautiously, Arthur approached the man and rolled him onto his back. Agravaine's eyes stared sightlessly at the sky, a look of surprise on his face. The traitor was dead, stabbed through the heart falling on his own dagger.

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_A/N: One more part left. Thanks for your patience with this one :)_


	9. The Master: Part 7

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

Arthur heard the fight before he saw it. Powerful, ancient words rang out in the quiet of the forest. The king quickened his pace. Finally, a hunched figure came into sight. Dragoon was standing, hand outstretched over a huddled form on the ground. It was Morgana, speaking desperately to the old man who held her life in his hands.

"… magic has no place in Camelot, it never will, not until I take the throne. Please, spare me. I only want what is rightfully mine."

But Dragoon's face was set. For whatever reason, the sorcerer's loyalty was to Arthur, not Morgana. Still he didn't finish her off. Arthur would have been troubled if he had killed her in cold blood. Traitor or not, Morgana was lying on the ground, defenseless—

"Perhaps it can still be so!" Morgana hissed, and a dagger barely missing Dragoon's back as the old wizard dodged. She used his distraction to send him flying with a flash of her eyes. The old man landed on his back, winded, as Morgana rose and gathered the fomorrah once more. Arthur started forward; he could not let the witch take Merlin's only hope of salvation, and he couldn't let her kill the man whose aged frame was tensed in pain on the ground. The thoughts _Save Merlin_ and _Save the sorcerer_ ran together in his mind as he broke from his hiding place.

"Arthur?" Morgana gasped as he came into sight, "You're… you're working with a sorcerer!" Her face contorted in rage, "I should have known. You're a hypocrite, Arthur Pendragon. You condemn those with magic, and yet you would use it for your own gain. You are just like Uther."

"I KNOW!" Morgana drew back in surprise from Arthur's response, "I know! I've been a fool! I've felt one way and spoken another. I've broken my own laws. I've betrayed my own crown. I just… I didn't… I was wrong. I was wrong about magic, and in that way I am very much my father's son. But there's a difference between being wrong and being cruel, and that's what you've inherited from Uther. The sneaking and spying, murder and betrayal, not caring how many innocent lives are lost as long as you come out on top, that's Uther's legacy to you. And I don't envy you, Morgana."

Brother and sister stood for a moment facing each other, neither advancing or retreating. Then, Morgana's shocked expression morphed into a glaring sneer. But as she raised her hand to attack, Arthur heard a voice behind him chanting, growing in strength. A pillar of wind formed between the king and his sister, and she was born up into it. The formorrah was ripped from her hands, and Arthur dove to catch it. He watched as the witch was carried higher and higher, until she was flung to the earth like a rag doll.

Slowly, Arthur stood and turned his back on Morgana, as he had done with another traitor not long ago. He walked away from pain, betrayal, and doubt without looking back, eye's set firmly on the loyal man who had saved his life yet again.

* * *

Merlin's aged body was stiff and sore as he sat, watching Arthur gather wood and start a small fire. Arthur had been very quiet since his outburst to Morgana, and Merlin was not anxious to break the silence. But the king's words rang in his head, and he could not let this opportunity pass by.

"Did you mean what you said?" he said softly.

Arthur glanced up at him and looked hard into his face. Merlin nearly winced under the intense scrutiny. After a moment, the king lowered his eyes to the now crackling flames and spoke.

"Magic causes pain and death. It can be deceptive and destructive. Because of magic, my sister betrayed me… all my family is dead… my most loyal friend tried to kill me." Arthur once again met Merlin's gaze, and the warlock had to force himself not to squirm, "But magic is also going to save my friend. It can build-up as well as tear down. In the right hands, it can do good instead of evil. But the law," the king paused and looked away, "My father's law against magic slaughters peaceful people along with the criminals. It prevents us from matching the strength of our enemies with power of our own," again Arthur's eyes met Merlin's, "Worst of all, it forces sorcerers who would be our allies to hide who they really are. It forces them to lie. I've had enough of it, haven't you?"

Merlin nodded, fighting back tears. He didn't know what to say, so he focused on the task at hand. The fomorrah hissed and spit as Merlin opened the jar and threw it into the fire. The flames burned higher as Merlin chanted the spell to destroy it, and the fomorrah let out a final, dying scream.

Really, Merlin should have expected it, but he was completely caught off guard by the searing pain in the back of his neck. He gasped and his hand flew to his neck before he could stop it. The pain faded quickly, and he realized what he had done. His eyes snapped up to see if Arthur had noticed his reaction—but how could he have missed it?

King Arthur was staring straight at the sorcerer before him, but he didn't look shocked. There was no fear, no anger, no condemnation in his eyes. He looked… relieved wasn't the right word… resigned? For once, Merlin couldn't read the look on his friend's face, but at least it didn't seem like the sort of look that would send him to the pyre.

The king held the warlock's gaze for a few long moments. Then Arthur stood and nodded slightly.

"Let's go home."

* * *

The servant stood nervously before his master, who was drumming his fingers intimidatingly on the arm of his throne.

"You practice magic," the king said severely.

"Yeees…" Merlin squirmed uncomfortably, "But you're repealing the laws against magic anyway, so what does it matter?"

"You've been lying to me for six years."

"I'm not quite sure it was _that_ long," Merlin chortled, trying not to look nervous.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't get rid of you on the spot."

"Because I save your life about once a week," Merlin cried indignantly, "Not to mention you'd have no one to polish your armor, make your breakfast, organize your clothes—"

"Now _that's _where you're wrong," Arthur began to smirk as he looked toward the door, "George!"

Merlin looked on in bewilderment as a very prim looking man entered the room.

"Merlin, meet George," Arthur continued, lounging in his chair, "George is perhaps the most efficient servant I've ever seen. He'll be spending the next week teaching you."

"Teaching me?" Merlin said skeptically.

"If you wish to remain in my service."

"We will start in the armory," George stated proudly, "Lesson one is my favorite: Polishing"

Merlin looked at Arthur, who was barely containing his laughter.

"Yes, that's my favorite too," Merlin said vaguely, turning his gaze back to George in wonder.

George gave Merlin an appraising look, nodded curtly, and gestured for Merlin to follow him out of the room.

Arthur was carefully avoiding Merlin's eyes, but the warlock wasn't going to let him off that easy.

"Tell me something," Merlin said. He watched Arthur school his features before turning, "You know I'm going to be doing all your chores with magic. Why waste time with this?"

"Because I want you to spend a day with George," Arthur said smugly, "Get the full George experience. He's quite the joker, once you get him going. I hope you particularly enjoy the ones about brass."

Merlin cocked his head, a grin stretching across his face.

"So this is it? I just have to do this, and we're even?"

Arthur leaned forward, as if to accentuate his point.

"Multiple. Jokes. About. _Brass_." The king leaned back, grinning, "Off you go then! It'll be fun."

Merlin sent an obviously fake smile at his master, but couldn't keep the genuine grin off his face as he headed out of the room. Looking back from the doorway, he saw his friend beaming back. Then Merlin set off down the hall after George, determined to be the worst student the man had ever seen.

* * *

_A/N: And that's it! Sorry about the long wait... I got stuck for a while with this one. And I'm very lazy :P I hope you enjoyed it, especially those of you who have been good enough to review with encouragements, critiques, and suggestions :) So, done with this arch just in time to correct the bad decisions of yet another Merlin season! Oh, I'm also open to suggestions for lapses in judgement you'd like to see fixed. Thanks for reading :)_


	10. Possum

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

As Agravaine moved forward with his soldiers, ready to end the life of the servant who had been a thorn in his side for far to long, something flashed in the boy's eyes. It wasn't fear, as Agravaine had expected. It was golden, glowing power. The traitor and his men were thrown back violently.

Agravaine nearly scurried to his feet in shock, but he quickly pushed such thoughts from his mind. Instead, he stayed still and silent, not even breathing. Clearly, Merlin had magic— powerful magic. Confronting him would be a foolish risk. The only way to get out alive was to feign death. Then, he would return to Morgana armed with the power to expose their greatest threat and destroy Arthur in the process.

He would live, and Camelot would be theirs.

* * *

_A/N: Things would be a lot harder for Merlin if the bad guys had common sense too. So now that this little one is out of the way, I can start working through some of the great suggestions I've gotten in reviews. Thanks for reading!_


	11. Merlin Season?

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

Arthur shouted a warning as he watched Merlin step into the trap. The king fought against his instinct to stop himself from grabbing the servant and pulling him out of danger, but he knew that he wouldn't be fast enough to do any good. With a sound of rushing ropes and rustling grass, a net sprang up around Merlin and lifted him into the air.

"Got them," the servant said, holding up the rabbits weakly.

"Great, Merlin," Arthur said, clapping his hands slowly. "Great. Always thinking with your stomach!"

"Alright, you prat," the servant said, squirming. "Shut up and get me down."

Arthur cut the rope, and the two of them moved on, putting some distance between themselves and the trap before settling in for a fine supper of rabbit stew.

* * *

_A/N: Yes, there was a slow clap. And a Star Wars quote. And the title is a Loony Tunes reference. This is why I love fan fiction. Thanks for reading!_


	12. Faith (Part 1)

_(AN: Big thanks to **RocknVaughn**, who wrote the idea behind this one. Like it? Think it was a clever idea? Then check out the Merlin story No Better Assassin for more AU goodness from the mind of RocknVaughn. The prompt given was for the episode "The Secret Keeper," and it's going to get an arc of a few chapters, since there were lot's of bad choices made in that episode. And yes, I am looking at YOU, Arthur.)_

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

"Enter," Arthur called toward the door, as Merlin moved to the desk, straightening some papers.

"Good morning, my Lord," Agravaine said, entering the room. "May I have a word?"

"Of course," the king replied, scrubbing his face with his hands. Merlin couldn't tell if it was an attempt to dispel his grogginess or a sign of exasperation at this very early visit from his uncle.

"The matter I wish to discuss is a delicate one, sir," Agravaine said, glancing at Merlin. "Perhaps it would be better if we talked alone."

Arthur was already shaking his head.

"Anything you say to me, you can say to Merlin," the king said offhandedly. "He's been privy to state affairs for years now and has proven himself trustworthy."

Moving behind a screen to change, Arthur missed Merlin's suppressed grin and Agravaine's flinch of annoyance.

"Very well," Agravaine replied with a forced smile, "We know there is a traitor amongst us."

"I wish I could deny it," Arthur replied. Merlin continued to busy himself with tidying the room as he listened intently to the conversation.

"We have to consider everyone, even those dearest to us," Agravaine said gravely. "No one can be above suspicion."

"Even you?" The words jumped out of Merlin's mouth before he could stop them. He didn't look up, though he could tell Agravaine's eyes were on him. He waited for a warning admonition from Arthur, but none came.

Agravaine gave a short, derisive laugh of dismissal.

"So…" Agravaine said, turning away from the servant, "One of your knights?"

"No," Arthur replied immediately.

"Are you sure?"

"I would vouch for each and every one of them." The king's voice was strong and certain. Merlin smiled to himself.

"Well, I have suggested Gaius before," Agravaine sighed. Merlin's stomach clenched. "But I can't believe he'd betray you."

"Nor I," Arthur answered quickly, "Gaius has always been a loyal servant, indeed a friend. To me and my father."

Merlin's shoulders sagged in relief even as his chest filled with pride in his friend.

"But, it was Gaius who told you where to find the sorcerer that killed your father, wasn't it?" As he spoke, Agravaine moved to retrieve Arthur's coat, but Merlin smoothly intercepted him, sending him a bright grin. Agravaine glared as he continued. "And we do know that he has dabbled in sorcery. What if his interest in the dark arts has been rekindled?"

"I've always believed I can trust Gaius," Arthur met Merlin's eyes as he stepped around the screen, and the servant gave him a reassuring nod.

"Oh, me too," Agravaine said with a cheerful smile.

"Really?" Merlin said, still not looking up as he helped Arthur into his coat. "That's a lot of accusations to throw at someone you trust."

"Sire," Agravaine said imploringly to the king, sounding offended.

"He's not wrong, Uncle," said Arthur mildly.

"Perhaps I am being a little hasty," Agravaine said, stepping back. "But it wouldn't do any harm to ask him some questions, would it?"

"I'm not sure there's any need," the king said.

"I'm quite sure there isn't," said Merlin, tying Arthur's shirt up.

"I believe there is, sire." Merlin could see that Agravaine was struggling to keep his temper in check. "We're talking about your safety, and the safety of the realm. Somebody is plotting against you, and it is my duty to investigate every possibility, however unlikely. I'm sure Gaius himself would respect that."

"I'm sure he would, Uncle," Arthur replied, meeting Agravaine's gaze levely, "And that is why he is going to help us find the traitor. But I'm not going to question him. My father once made that mistake, and it nearly cost Gaius his life. I trust Gaius. He only found that sorcerer because I asked him to, and I know he would never betray Camelot."

As Agravaine bowed stiffly and left the room, Merlin could hardly hold back a grin of triumph. Arthur was finally becoming the king he was meant to be.

* * *

_(AN: More to follow. Thanks for reading!)_


	13. Faith (Part 2)

_(AN: Again, thanks to **RocknVaughn **for the idea. There'll be one more chapter following this one.)_

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

Arthur hurried through the torch lit halls. When the warning bells had sounded, the guards had told him to come immediately to Gaius' chambers. Merlin had taken off at a run. Arthur followed as soon as he could, only stopping to pull on his shirt and boots.

On entering the physician's rooms, Arthur stopped in shock. Guards were tearing the room apart under the supervision of his uncle. Merlin stood in their midst, looking dazed.

Arthur saw red.

"What the hell is going on?" He roared, striding into the room.

"Your Highness," said Agravaine. "It appears Gaius is a traitor after all."

"I thought I made my feelings on this subject clear, Agravaine," said Arthur, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Gaius is missing," said Merlin, tersely. "And Agravaine thinks that means he's guilty."

"My Lord, he was seen riding away from the city!" Agravaine snapped.

"That can't be true," Merlin insisted.

"Sire," Leon nodded to his king before turning to Agravaine. "You were right. A white stallion has been taken from the royal stables."

"Alright, just stop," Arthur commanded. "We don't know what's going on, but I see no real evidence implicating Gaius. Leon, organize a search party. If he's been taken, we need to find him. If he's left of his own volition, we need to know why."

"Yes sire," the knight bowed and quickly left the room.

"Agravaine," Arthur said in a steely voice. "You will cease searching immediately. You will stay here and put the room back to rights. Merlin will supervise you. Anything that is broken or missing will be replaced at your expense, Uncle. And the next time you presume to ransack someone else's rooms remember this: every person in this castle is under my protection. You do not have authority over them. I see any attack against them as an attack against me. Is that understood?"

Agravaine nodded stiffly, and Arthur swept out of the room without another word.

* * *

From that moment on, Arthur decided to keep a close eye on his uncle. So the next night, when Agravaine took a horse into the forest alone, the king followed as swiftly and silently as he could.

Soon, Agravaine stopped in a shadowy hollow. He opened an almost invisible door and spoke urgently to someone inside. Arthur couldn't hear what was said, but he saw who followed his uncle out.

It was Morgana.

* * *

Arthur followed as closely as he dared. He had been surprised to see both Merlin and Gwaine's horses outside the cave with Agravaine's… and Morgana's.

Arthur was trying not to think about his uncle's betrayal. There would be a time for anger and revenge later. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Morgana and Agravaine paused in the tunnel ahead. Their voices echoed back to him.

"Go to Gaius," Morgana was saying, "If he remains alive, we're all in danger."

"You can rest assured, he won't breathe another word," the venom in his uncle's voice was palpable, and Arthur wondered how he had ever trusted the man.

"I'll deal with Merlin and this hothead," Morgana said lightly.

As he watched the two walk in separate directions, Arthur was torn. He had to follow one and let the other go, and he had to choose quickly. If Merlin and Gwaine were together, they could help each other. They didn't stand much of a chance against Morgana, but they might be able to hold her off and escape. It was at least a possibility. Gaius, on the other hand, was defenseless.

Arthur grimly set his jaw and set off after his uncle.

The king followed the traitor closely. Soon, his uncle passed through a low portal. Arthur slipped in silently behind him. His uncle was leaning over someone who was sprawled over a raised slab of rock.

Agravaine drew his dagger.

"Drop it," Arthur said firmly, drawing his sword. Before he could do more, he heard someone enter the cave behind him.

"Arthur?" The king was relieved to hear Gwaine's voice. "What's going on?"

"It was him," Arthur said, not taking his eyes off of Agravaine, "He abducted Gaius."

"What?" Agravaine said. "No!"

"Then what are you doing?" said Gwaine as he stepped forward and drew his own sword.

"He's unconscious," said Agravaine frantically, "I'm trying to help!"

"With that?" said Gwaine.

"I want to see if he's still breathing," Agravaine insisted.

"No, Uncle," said Arthur, "No more lies. I saw you with Morgana. I _heard _you. Drop the dagger."

Agravaine's throat worked as he looked between Arthur and Gwaine. He put down the blade and held his hands up in surrender.

"I can explain," the traitor said with a nervous smile.

Arthur nodded slowly.

Then he pulled his fist back and slammed his uncle in the jaw.

The man fell hard, knocked unconscious by the blow.

"Well," said Gwaine, walking forward and sheathing his sword. "That's one way to handle it."

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur asked, glancing around the cave.

"We separated when we were searching for Gaius," Gwaine answered as he checked the physician over, "I think he'll be alright. Come on, we have to go find Merlin."

"No, Gwaine," Arthur said, moving toward the cave entrance. "I'll find him. You tie up that… that traitor and get Gaius out of here."

Gwaine looked torn, and Arthur knew how he felt. As much as he would like more help searching for his servant, he knew Merlin's first concern would be for Gaius. Gwaine nodded, and Arthur sprinted from the cave to find his friend before the idiot got himself killed.


	14. Faith (Part 3)

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

Arthur pulled up short as he came upon a man walking slowly through the tunnels ahead of him. He grimaced at this new obstacle. Should he try to take the man by surprised and kill him, or follow, hoping to be led to his servant? Before he could decide, he heard a familiar voice echoing through the cavern.

"If you have harmed him…" Merlin's voice was too vulnerable to be threatening.

"Why are we discussing his fate when it's time to decide yours?" Morgana's voice sent a chill down his spine as his stomach clenched in worry. "Not whether you're going to die alone, here in this God forsaken place—that's going to happen anyway." As Morgana's glee rose, so did Arthur's dread. "But _how_. And more precisely, how _painfully_."

The man ahead of him entered the cave and Arthur peered in, careful to keep himself hidden. His stomach dropped at the sight of Morgana and this other man—presumably also a sorcerer—standing over Merlin. His friend was on the ground with a dagger floating in midair, inches from his face.

"Alator," Morgana greeted the man, "This is Merlin. He's just a serving boy, but he's the most troublesome serving boy I've ever known."

Arthur couldn't help but feel proud of Merlin for that.

"I take it your time with Gaius was fruitful," the witch continued, turning to her companion.

"Gaius told me everything," the man—Alator—replied.

"So you know who Emrys is?" Morgana asked.

"Indeed I do," Alator answered. Arthur had no idea who they were talking about or why, and he couldn't bring himself to care. Alator was advancing on Merlin, and Arthur couldn't see a way to help his servant. The moment he broke from hiding, Morgana would kill Merlin with a mere thought. Even if she failed, the other magician would finish the job. The young king didn't know what to do against two powerful sorcerers. His blood ran cold as he realized that Merlin might die right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Not only do I know who Emrys is," said Alator, crouching beside Merlin, far too close for Arthur's comfort. "I know exactly where he is."

"Then tell me," Morgana was practically quivering with anticipation.

Alator looked at the witch for a long moment.

"Never," the sorcerer said. Pointing his staff at Morgana, he bellowed a word of power. The sorceress went flying into a pillar, and then lay on the ground, unmoving.

At the same time, the knife that had been pointing at Merlin dropped to the ground, and Arthur went into action. He ran into the cave to stand between his servant and the sorcerer as both climbed to their feet.

"Stay back!" he shouted, holding his sword out defensively, though he knew it was useless against magic.

"King Arthur. Merlin," the sorcerer's eyes lingered on the servant. "I am Alator of the Catha. I am honored to be of service. I understand the burden you carry. I have lived with it all my life. I have been shunned, persecuted, and sometimes hunted in every corner of the five kingdoms. I understand what that feels like. You're not alone. From what Gaius told me, I may not have your power, but I share your hopes. For I and others like me have dreamt of the world you seek to build. And we would gladly give our lives to help you do it."

Then the sorcerer was kneeling before them. Arthur had no clue what to do. He didn't understand all of the man's impassioned speech, but it had struck a chord with him. Something indefinable had been stirred in his soul.

"Thank you," he found himself saying. He half turned to Merlin. "You alright?"

"Fine," Merlin said. "What are we going to do about Morgana?"

Arthur glanced to Alator. The man met his gaze evenly.

"It is for you to decide, my King," he said.

Arthur walked to the place were Morgana was sprawled. He stood over her, sword poised to strike.

_She deserves it_, he thought. _After the pain, the lies, the death, the betrayal… she deserves to die._

He sheathed his blade.

"I can't," Arthur said, stepping back. "I don't know what to do with her, but I won't kill her in cold blood."

A ghost of a smile passed over Alator's face, while a Merlin's eyes filled with pride.

"I can take her," Alator said. "My people have ways of dealing justice to those with magic. She will not be harmed, but she will not trouble you again."

"Thank you," Arthur said. He started to leave with Merlin, before turning back to the sorcerer. "I wonder, could you do the same for a traitor without magic as well?"

Alator smiled grimly.

* * *

The three horses galloped swiftly through the streets of Camelot. Soon, they had made it to physician's chambers, and Gwen was tending to Gaius. Gwaine, Arthur, and Merlin told the whole story: how Agravaine had been working with Morgana, how the pair of them had taken Gaius for information, and how their plan had backfired when Alator had switched sides.

Eventually, Arthur was left alone with the exhausted and injured physician.

"Thank you, Arthur," Gaius said softly.

"It was Merlin and Gwaine that found you, Gaius," Arthur replied. "I just followed where they led."

"Not that," Gaius said, shaking his head. "I mean for not doubting me. For having faith. I know it can't have been easy."

"You may know about magic, Gaius," said Arthur. "You may have practiced it in the past, but I know you are loyal to Camelot. You ended up saving us, in the end. Whatever you said to Alator, it made a difference."

Gaius looked into Arthur's face for a long moment before speaking.

"Contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people, a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you. There are many more who believe in the world you're trying to create. One day you will learn, Arthur… one day you will understand just how much they've done for you."

* * *

_(AN: And that's it for this arc. I know, I could have done a reveal, but I wasn't feeling it this time. Again, thank you to_ _**RocknVaughn **for the prompt. And thanks to all of you for reading :)_


	15. The Higher Path

_(__AN: Thank you **servant123** for the inspiration for this chapter! Check out her stories for some great, friendship-focused, Merlin fics :)_

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.)_

* * *

For the first time in twenty years, he felt powerful.

Kilgharrah stretched his wings. They seemed to creak and groan from disuse, but he felt strength shoot through them like a bolt of lightening. He brought his wings down with all his might, and flew.

His stone prison shattered around him, and there was the night sky, in all its lovely inky blackness. The stars called to him, and he yearned to cast himself into their heights.

A cry from below pulled his attention away from the heavens. He looked down.

There they were—the insignificant worms that had destroyed his kind and locked him away to rot. So many of them were down there, crawling on the walls and through the streets. Why should they thrive and breed and grow when his kind were slaughtered to extinction? It was their turn to be destroyed, their time to be exterminated.

But…

Merlin.

He was Emrys, the warlock of prophecy.

He would lead the young Pendragon to a great destiny. The kingdom of Albion would flourish. It would be a land of beauty and justice. A land for humans. It was their time.

The Great Dragon turned and glided to the north, casting his anger aside. He would wait for the age of peace and prosperity in the company of an old friend.


	16. Choose Your Poison

_(AN: I owe **complexities **a big thank you for the idea behind this one.)_

* * *

The doors closed behind Arthur as he left to face the Knights of Medhir. Merlin's stomach was in knots. He knew what had to happen for the spell to end. Morgana had to die. He had the poison in his hand.

He had to do it now. He had to end it, to save Arthur and Camelot.

He looked at Morgana...

...and he couldn't do it.

She was scared. She didn't understand what was happening. She was his _friend!_

"Morgana," he said urgently, stumbling over—he was almost asleep on his feet. "I know what's going on here."

"You do?" She looked panicked.

"This spell is very powerful," he said, "That means it was cast by a high priestess of the Old Religion. And… it required a vessel."

"A vessel?"

"Yes," Merlin continued grimly, "A person, here in Camelot, who is connected to the spell. That person wouldn't be effected by the spell… and the spell wouldn't stop as long as…" Merlin swallowed down the lump in his throat. "As long as that person was alive."

Merlin knew he didn't have to explain further as Morgana's eyes filled with tears.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yes," he whispered, blinking rapidly.

"But," she glanced around. Bewildered. Frightened. "How do you know this?"

"Because," he paused, and looked her straight in the eye. "I have magic too. I've never told anyone before."

Morgana gasped, hand flying to her mouth. There was such a mixture of hope, confusion, and fear in her eyes. But a crash from the hall reminded them that there was no time.

"What do we do?" She whispered.

Merlin couldn't meet her eyes as he pulled out the hemlock and handed it to her.

The sound of small sob met his ears.

"It's your choice," he said quietly. "I don't believe that whoever cast this will allow you to die. They may have been trying to protect you, even as they used you. But you can't trust them. They obviously care about destroying Camelot more than they care about you."

Morgana nodded, looking at the bottle in her hand. As Merlin watched her stare at the poison that he had given her, that he had intended to kill her with, the young warlock lost his nerve.

"Never mind," Merlin said in a rush. "We'll find another way, we'll get you out of the city—"

"No," Morgana said firmly. "No. I'll do it. It's to save everyone. Everyone I know. My home."

She lifted the bottle with a shaking hand. Then, she stopped.

"Thank you, Merlin," she held her hand out to him, and he took it. "Thank you for trusting me. I wish we had more time."

"We will," he promised. "I'll make sure of it."

Morgana gave him a shaky smile. Then, holding Merlin's hand tightly in hers, she drank the poison.

* * *

_(AN: From there, everything would run the same as it did in the series, except Morgana wouldn't hate Merlin or trust Morgause. In other news, this story has over a hundred reviews! You know why? 'Cause you guys are awesome. That's why. Thanks for reading :)_


	17. The Wheel Turns (Part 1)

_(AN: Thanks go out to **servant123** again for this one. She sent me the prompt, "Merlin: I should probably make sure Arthur gets to his father's room and back okay. At first I thought he was just a bit stirred up from the act, but he's been acting more drugged than tipsy or drunk ever since that knife trick..." If you like it, go read her Merlin stories! Also, thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and favorite-ing. You win at life :) Enjoy!)_

* * *

Merlin shook his head as he continued to tidy things up as Arthur plodded out of the room. Walking off without his trousers… banging into things… Arthur must really be drunk…

The thought gave Merlin pause.

Arthur was certainly acting drunk—and Merlin would know, he had seen Arthur tipsy _plenty _of times—but the prince hadn't actually had much to drink. Yes, he'd had a flagon or two, but it took quite a bit more than that to make Arthur stumble around like this. A feeling of wrongness squirmed in his stomach.

Something was going on.

* * *

Arthur felt horrible. Really, truly, thoroughly awful. He was here, sitting with his father on his birthday, and he should be feeling good, but the lights, colors, and smells of the room assaulted him mercilessly. The ground was shifting and moving all around him… was it allowed to do that? He didn't think it was. It should stop. He ought to command it to stop, but there was something wrong with his tongue and his mouth and his _brain_ and why was it so heavy? His head was _really heavy_, how on earth had his neck been able to hold it up all these years? He must have a very strong neck. Strongest neck in the world. But was floppy now, and, yes, lean it back on the chair. Much better. But the lights were still glaring. Shiny light, on the silver teapot in his eyes, someone walking on the teapot, sneaking up—

The prince started and swung clumsily around, bringing his sword up to meet the blade that came whistling toward him.

"Guards!" he called weakly, facing the man—the Gleeman from the feast—on unsteady legs.

"Guards!" he called again. He needed to fight, but the floor was shifting under his feet, turning, spinning, like the wheel, he was still on the damned wheel, and there were more blades flying towards him, and he blocked them again and again, but more kept coming. His sword flew out of his hands, and he lay helpless on the ground.

"Goodbye, Arthur Pendragon," said the man. Arthur could do nothing as the final, deadly strike flew at him. But instead of feeling the bite of a blade on flesh, he heard the clash of sword on sword.

"It'll take more than a coward like you to kill my son," his father growled.

The next few minutes were a blur for Arthur. He knew his father was fighting, and he needed to _get up_ and help, but everything was still spinning, and his limbs were iron, and each clash of metal echoed and pounded through his mind.

"Have you anything to say to your son before I kill him?" Arthur heard distantly. He looked up to see his attacker approaching. Suddenly, a familiar blur of red and blue barreled into the assassin.

"You alright?" Merlin asked, as he scooped up Arthur's sword and faced the Gleeman, who was regaining his feet. Arthur tried to answer, but his throat didn't seem to be working. Maybe that was because his heart was in it as he watched his ill father and his incompetent friend approach an armed assassin.

He needn't have worried. With the combined efforts of the king and the servant, the Gleeman was soon disarmed and on the ground. Uther stumbled back to Arthur as Merlin kept the man at sword-point and bellowed for the guards.

"Are you alright?" the king asked, placing his hands on his son's shoulders. Arthur still couldn't get any words out, so he nodded instead.

It was a mistake.

Hearing no response from his master, Merlin glanced around at Arthur to make sure nothing was wrong. He took his eyes of his captive for a moment, which was all the Gleeman needed.

Arthur watched in horror as the assassin pulled a blade seemingly from nowhere and plunged it into Merlin's belly.

* * *

_(AN: I had to. I'm not even sorry. More parts to follow.)_


	18. The Wheel Turns (Part 2)

_(AN: Wow, I really appreciate the reviews, especially the threatening ones :)__ It lets me know that I've done a good job. Well, here's another chapter. There will be more parts, but this is in-progress for me, so they might not come as quickly as this one did. Thanks again to **servant123** for the prompt :)__ Enjoy!)_

* * *

Arthur stared out the window at the bustling courtyard bellow. Wheelbarrows were pushed along, men and women stopped to gossip, children teased and chased each other. People talked and complained and laughed and went about their lives as if it was a normal morning. As if the world had not changed since yesterday.

Did they not know what had happened, or did they not care?

But why should they care? They hadn't been there on countless patrols and adventures. They hadn't teased and goaded and bantered through every desperate situation. They had never seen reckless loyalty in action, or heard the words of absolute faith bringing hope to every hopeless situation.

They hadn't seen the blood. They hadn't heard Gwaine's bellow of denial or Gwen's frantic pleas. They hadn't seen the look on Gaius' face when he first saw the wound.

The prince had never before felt so separate from his people—separate from everyone. How could the absence of one person make him feel so utterly alone? True, there were others that knew and shared his pain. Gwen, Gaius, and the knights. He should go to them and be with them. But he couldn't. He couldn't go to Gaius' chambers and stand there with those that were already in mourning, who had already given up.

Because Merlin was still alive, and it would be a cold day in Hell before Arthur just stood by and watched him die.

Arthur heard the door open behind him, but he didn't turn to see who had come in. If someone had come to try to convince him to go and say his goodbyes…

His visitor didn't speak. Slow, quiet footsteps approached and came to a stop beside him. He glanced over.

"Father!" Arthur was shocked to see the king standing beside him. Uther still looked weak, tired, and hollow, but his eyes were more focused than they'd been in ages, and he was standing tall. "Are you alright?"

"That's what I came to ask you," Uther said, resting his hand on his son's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Arthur said firmly, turning his eyes back to the window, "Gaius says the effect of the drug has worn off already. Why they did not simply poison me when they had the chance, I'll never know."

"Odin's son died by the sword," Uther said quietly. Both monarchs had heard Agravaine's report. The assassin had already been captured, questioned, and sentenced to death. He had admitted that Odin had hired him to seek revenge against Arthur. "He wanted blood for blood."

"Well, he got it, didn't he?" said Arthur, clenching his fists, trying not to think of the knife, the blood, the surprised look on Merlin's face before he collapsed…

"Does the boy live?" Uther asked.

"Yes," Arthur turned from the window, running a hand over his face. "But… the blade touched his heart, and he's bleeding inside. Gaius says it's only a matter of time… The knight's, Gwen, they're all with him…" Arthur swallowed, shaking his head. "Why are they behaving like he's already dead, when there's still life in his body?"

"They are preparing themselves for the worst," Arthur turned in surprise at the king's statement, and was taken aback by the pity he saw in his father's eyes. They were the eyes of an old man who had seen many friends and comrades die before him. The prince couldn't find comfort in this sympathy.

"They can give up hope, but I won't," Arthur said stubbornly.

"Arthur," the king walked to the table and sat heavily, "I know it is hard to accept, and I wish it wasn't so, but the boy gave his life for the both of us, and for Camelot. His death will be honorable. You must accept his sacrifice, and find a way to move on."

The prince wanted to argue, but he could see his father's gaze sliding and losing its focus once more. Trying to convince him now would do no good. But then, what good had it ever done?

Arthur loved his father. He was beyond grateful that Uther had not been hurt in the fight. The prince knew he now owed both his own and his father's life to Merlin. And once again, his father saw it as an acceptable loss, a fair trade.

The king was wrong, and Arthur was done letting his father's prejudices hurt those around him. He strode out of the chamber, calling for a guard to stay with the king.

It was time to have a talk with Gaius about the time before the Great Purge.

About magic.

* * *

_(AN: Better? I hope so. More parts to follow.)_


	19. The Wheel Turns (Part 3)

_(AN: Well, some of you didn't think that leaving Merlin unconscious and bleeding was much better than leaving him with a dagger in his stomach, so here's another part :) But really, I am very grateful for all of the positive reviews I've been getting. Sorry it's taken me so long to update; I just started a new job. Again, the plot bunny came from **servant123**, I've just been feeding it carrots. Enjoy!)_

* * *

Arthur's chest constricted with each step he took toward the physician's chambers. It was the last place he wanted to go and the only place he needed to be. He picked up pace as he approached the door, knowing that if he paused at all, he wouldn't be able to make himself enter. As a result, the door banged open loudly as we walked in, and everyone in the silent room turned to face him.

Gwaine, Percival, Elyan, and Leon were all there, sitting or leaning or pacing in different places. All of them looked tired and resigned, like men fighting a losing battle. Arthur hated it. He had expected at least Gwaine to hold on to hope, to fight for his friend until the end. The normally cheerful knight was standing, arms folded, staring into the fire. He glanced up when Arthur entered, and for a moment, anger replaced the despair in his eyes. It wasn't very surprising to the prince—he knew he deserved blame for Merlin's injury. The other knights, however, merely sent him looks of pity. Arthur preferred Gwaine's anger.

His eyes strayed to the door of Merlin's room before landing on the physician, who had just looked up from mixing a potion.

"Gaius," Arthur said. "Could I see you for a moment?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode back into the hall. Gwaine's angry voice follow him.

"What's the matter, _Your Highness_, no time to look in on the man who _saved your_ _worthless hide AGAIN!?_"

"Gwaine, stop!"

But Gwaine ignored Percival's warning, and continued to bellow at the door Arthur had shut behind him. Arthur lost track of the words as he moved further down the passageway. After a few moments, the angry voice quieted. Soon, Gaius was stepping out of the chamber, looking old and weary.

"What do you need, sire?" the physician asked.

"Not here," Arthur said, glancing around the echoing corridor. "Follow me."

Gaius raised an eyebrow, but still did as Arthur commanded. Soon, they came upon a little used storage room. The prince ushered Gaius inside and entered, closing the door behind him.

"Gaius…" Arthur began. He turned to face the physician, still unsure of how to say what he needed to say. Gaius merely stood quietly, regarding Arthur curiously. "I wanted to ask you… have you ever… can you… erm… how… ...how is Merlin?"

It hadn't been the question Arthur meant to ask, though he did wish to know how his friend was. Gaius looked as though he knew this, but he answered anyway.

"Gwen is with him now, keeping him comfortable. There has been no change," the physician sat heavily on a dusty barrel. "He may hold out a few days longer, but no more. There really is nothing that can be done."

Arthur had to turn away from the pure devastation in Gaius' gaze.

"There is a way to save Merlin's life," Arthur said, bringing his eyes back to Gaius. "With magic."

"Magic has been forbidden in Camelot for decades," Gaius said warily, standing.

"But it wasn't always," Arthur pressed. "And you once practiced sorcery Gaius, I know you did. Use it now, just this once. Heal him. Please."

Gaius looked at Arthur hard for a long moment.

"No," he said, turning away.

"What?" Arthur was shocked, outraged. "I thought you cared about Merlin! He'll die if you don't help him—"

"And how many others have died!?" said Gaius, angrily. "Do you think Merlin will be the first? For years, I have watched mothers and fathers, nobles and peasants, warriors and children die, knowing that I had the power to save them. But I chose to follow your father's law, _your law_ instead. Why is Merlin different? Why should you save him and not countless others? Even if I had the power to save him, it would be wrong to use it. "

The prince was stunned into silence for a long moment.

"You're right, Gaius," he said quietly. "I am being selfish," Sighing, he ran a hand over his face. "I'm not behaving as a ruler should. There is so much I don't know or understand about magic. But if it can save lives, it can't be all bad."

The physician regarded the prince, hope and disbelief battling in his eyes.

"If you can heal him, it'll prove to me that magic can be used for good," Arthur took a steadying breath, "And I swear that when I am king, things'll be different. You'll be able to use your power to help everyone. You won't have to live in fear."

Gaius sat heavily once more. Arthur was afraid he might start crying.

And then, Gaius laughed.

He let out a light, joyful chuckle that swelled into a loud, free belly laugh. After a moment or two, Arthur cautiously joined in the laughing. He wasn't sure what was funny, but this reaction seemed to bode well for Merlin, so he kept it up.

Soon, Gaius was gasping, holding onto his side with tears rolling down his face.

"I never let myself believe it," Gaius said, wiping his face as he beamed at Arthur. "I knew what the prophecies said, I knew it was to be you, but I never really believed I would live to see it. Magic. Free. In Camelot."

"So you can cure him?" Arthur said anxiously. The smile faded somewhat from Gaius' face.

"Magic can heal him," Gaius said. "Unfortunately, a wound of this nature requires great power to heal. Power that I do not have."

"But you said—"

"There is one who can heal him. The most powerful warlock of this or any age."

"Where can I find this warlock? Will they help?"

"He is in the city. In this very palace, in fact."

"In the palace?" Arthur said in shock. "What is he doing here?"

"The palace is the sorcerer's home," Gaius explained. "He has to stay here, to protect the Once and Future King, the one who will bring a lasting reign of peace and prosperity to the kingdom of Albion. The one who will bring magic back to the land. You, Arthur."

Arthur's head was spinning. It was all too incredible, too unbelievable. But he found himself believing. He believed it with every fiber of his being, every fragment of his soul. It felt truer and more certain than anything else ever had. And in that moment, he knew who was fated to share this great destiny with him. But he needed to hear it.

"Who, Gaius?" he asked breathlessly. "Who is the warlock who's been protecting me?"

Gaius looked torn. There was hope in his eyes, but fear also. But as he looked into Arthur's face, the fear faded away, and he answered.

"It's Merlin."

* * *

_(AN: I swear I'm not making cliff-hangers on purpose. More parts to follow.)_


	20. The Wheel Turns (Part 4)

_(AN: Wow. Maybe I should tick you guys off more often… over 150 reviews total now, and though most of the last few were telling me off for being a lying sadistic cliff-hanger-monger, I still appreciate every one of them. I am humbled by your words of anger/threats/encouragement. Thank you. And more thanks to **servant123 **for the idea. Enjoy!)_

* * *

"Are you sure this'll work Gaius?" Arthur asked yet again.

The prince and the physician were both crowded into Merlin's tiny room, hovering over the unconscious servant. Arthur was doing his best to focus on the task at hand. It was hard though, as thoughts of Merlin using magic, Merlin protecting him, Merlin slowly dying here before him kept popping into his head. The prince knew he should be angry, but fear was keeping all other feelings at bay. There was so much about Merlin that he didn't know. The servant had led a second life as a sorcerer entirely devoted to protecting Camelot and its rulers—the very rulers that would have him burned for treason. There must be countless stories to be told and secrets to be uncovered. But if Merlin died, all of that would die with him. No one would ever know the full extent of the warlock's loyalty. And more than that, if Merlin died, Arthur would lose… well… he would lose a moderately good servant. And good servants were very hard to come by.

"I can't be sure," Gaius answered. "I've done as much as I can to prepare the spell that will heal him. If I can use my magic to wake him, and he performs the spell, it should be enough to make him well. But…"

"What?" Arthur asked. "What's worrying you?"

"He is deeply unconscious, sire," Gaius sighed. "Bringing him round won't take nearly as much power as healing him would, but still... I'll be dragging his mind up from deep darkness. I don't know how aware he'll be, or how long he'll manage to stay awake. I'm not sure he'll be able to focus his mind and his power on healing himself."

"He will," said Arthur forcefully. "I'll make him."

"Actually, Arthur," Gaius said, not meeting the prince's eyes. "I think it would be best if you waited outside."

"What?!" Arthur said, brow creasing. "No, Gaius, I'm staying. The knights, Gwen, they don't know about his magic. It made sense to send them away, but I know. I can help."

"Arthur, as far as Merlin knows, you remain ignorant of his abilities," Gaius explained patiently. "If he wakes and finds you here, he will not feel free to use his magic. We won't have time to explain the situation to him. I'm sorry, but you being here will hurt Merlin's chances of survival. We can't risk it."

Arthur wanted to argue, but what Gaius said made sense. Arthur didn't have a logical reason for staying, he just felt deep in his gut that he ought to. He and Merlin were in this together, and he couldn't make himself believe that leaving Merlin was a good idea. But if Gaius said it was for the best…

"Alright," he said grudgingly. "I'll be right outside the door, if you need me."

"Thank you, sire," Gaius replied, turning back to his ward.

Arthur took one last look at Merlin. The servant was pale and still; he looked as though he was already dead. Turning away took great effort—Arthur felt as though there was a cord attaching him to the weak and dying figure before him. He felt rooted to the spot. Regardless, he left the small room and went into the physician's chamber. He and Gaius had asked the knights and Gwen to clear out a while ago. They had all been confused, but Arthur didn't have the energy to come up with an explanation. Let them think what they wanted. They would know the truth someday.

The low sound of Gaius' voice drew his attention back to Merlin's room. Arthur pressed his ear to the door, listening intently as the language of the Old Religion poured from Gaius' mouth. Then…

"Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me?"

A groan set Arthur's heart leaping.

"Merlin!" Gaius' voice rang with relief. "Merlin, listen to me very carefully. You've been hurt. You need to heal yourself quickly. Repeat after me—"

"Arthur…"

"He's fine. He and Uther are both fine. You need to worry about yourself. Now—Merlin, no! Don't try to get up—"

"Have to save… in trouble…"

Arthur was through the door of the room before he knew what he was doing. He his stride didn't break even as his heart plummeted to his boots at the sight of Merlin feebly fighting Gaius' restraining hand, glazed eyes darting around the room. The physician backed away as the prince sat on the edge of Merlin's bed, seizing his friend's shoulders tightly.

"Merlin, look at me," Arthur said firmly, shaking the servant slightly. Merlin's wide eyes fixed on Arthur's. "You need to listen to Gaius and do exactly as he says right now. If you don't... I'll... I'll fire you straight away! Understand?!"

Merlin's stared at Arthur for a long moment. Then, the servant gave a feeble nod.

"Good," Arthur said, standing and going to the far side of the room. "Gaius, go ahead."

The physician shook himself and turned back to Merlin. Arthur barely heard the chanting, hardly saw the ritual that was taking place before him. All he saw were Merlin's eyes. The servant kept shooting the prince frightened looks as he realized what he was doing. For the first time, Merlin was doing magic in front of his master. Arthur tried to hide his own nervousness as he nodded reassuringly at his servant. It was clear that Merlin's energy was waning fast—his speech was slurring, his eyes drooping. Finally, Gaius coxed him through the last words of the spell. Arthur barely caught a glimpse of Merlin's eyes flashing gold before they rolled back into the servant's head, and he fell back, limp and still.

Arthur rushed forward.

"Is he alright? Gaius? Did it work?"

Gaius held up a hand for silence as he examined Merlin.

"He is alive, sire," the physician said, laying his ear on Merlin's chest. "And… his heartbeat seems stronger, more steady than it was before."

"Then it worked?" Arthur said, hope rising.

"Only time will tell, but I believe so," Gaius sat beside Merlin's bed, sighing. "I cannot believe he did magic in front of you, just like that. He didn't even question it."

"I know," Arthur couldn't help but smile. "To be fair, I had threatened to fire him."

"Well," Gaius chuckled as he stood and began to tidy the room. "I guess this proves it once and for all."

"Proves what?" asked Arthur.

"That Merlin's instinct for self preservation isn't as strong as his desire to do as you say."

Arthur's smile faded.

Somehow, he couldn't find the humor in that at all.

* * *

_(AN: I nearly ended it after "he fell back, limp and still," but I like you guys too much. One more part to go.)_


	21. The Wheel Turns (Part 5)

_(Finally ginormous thanks to readers, reviewers, and **servant123.** Enjoy!)_

* * *

The knock at the door was not unexpected, or necessarily unwelcome, but Arthur still flinched upon hearing it.

It had been three weeks since the assassination attack and Merlin's injury, and about two since the servant's miraculous recovery. Most people in the palace (King Uther included) believed that Gaius had misjudged the wound—panicked at seeing his ward injured. The knights and Gwen seemed to believe that Gaius had used magic to heal Merlin the night that Arthur sent them away from the physician's chamber. The prince didn't correct the assumption. The truth would be known someday, and until then he would enjoy the grateful looks that his friends—especially Gwaine—sent him when they mentioned Merlin's revival. Everything was back to normal for everyone.

Everyone except the prince and the warlock.

Arthur had visited Merlin regularly while his friend was on the mend, but his visits became less and less frequent as Merlin became more and more lucid. The prince was self-conscious and uncertain. He had no idea what would happen when he and Merlin finally had it out. It wouldn't be pleasant, that he knew for certain.

And now, it was Merlin's first day back at work, and there was no putting off the confrontation any longer.

"Enter," Arthur said, setting aside the papers he had been looking at and straightened in his chair.

A pale face peeped around the door, looking so nervous that Arthur nearly laughed. It was the same look the servant got when he was caught stealing food from his master's plate.

"Come in, Merlin," Arthur said, tamping down on his ridiculous urge to chuckle. This was going to be one of the most important conversations of his life, and he could not afford to go to pieces. "Have a seat."

The servant did as he was told, tripping slightly as he scurried across the room. Again, Arthur fought back a snort. There was a moment of silence between the two.

"You know about the magic, then," Merlin said, fiddling with his neckerchief. Arthur was surprised to see him wearing it, but couldn't say why, since Merlin always wore it. But the prince suddenly had a bizarre mental image of Merlin tearing off his neckerchief and throwing it to the ground because it had been a disguise all along—warlocks _don't wear neckerchiefs._ Arthur had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. What was wrong with him?

"Yes," he said, keeping his face smooth with great effort. "And I'm willing to listen. I need to understand why you chose to practice magic. I need the truth, Merlin."

"I'll tell you everything," said Merlin, nodding his head earnestly. "I've wanted to tell you but… well, I was too scared."

Scared. Arthur hadn't expected to hear that.

"Listen," Merlin said, leaning forward. "Before I tell you everything, there's something you should know. I've had to make a lot of really difficult decisions over the years. Alone. With no time to think. I've done a lot of things I regret, and sometimes I feel like I've caused more problems than I've solved. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, and I'm not saying I'd have done anything different, but I just… I just want you to be ready for what I'm going to tell you."

Arthur couldn't hold it in anymore. He let out a long, loud snort that broke into a loud, strong laugh. Tears were soon flooding his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Merlin's stricken-looking face and laughed all the harder.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, holding his side. "I'm sorry. It's not funny. Really, it's not—"

Arthur broke into another string of laughter at the look of total bewilderment on Merlin's face.

"I'm so glad my years of struggle are entertaining for you, sire," the servant said moodily.

"Oh, Merlin, come _on_," Arthur said, pulling himself together. "I have been dreading this conversation because I thought you would walk through that door, and I wouldn't recognize you. I thought you would have this other, intimidating sorcerer persona and tell me that the incompetence and clumsiness was all an act. But it wasn't, was it? That's really you. You really are an idiot!"

The warlock stared at the prince in disbelief and the prince grinned right back.

"So…" Merlin said carefully. "You're not angry?"

Arthur thought about it. "Not at the moment, no."

"And we're okay?"

"Yes."

"Because I'm an idiot."

Arthur nodded happily.

"Huh." Merlin tilted his head. It looked as though he was deciding whether or not to be offended.

"So," Arthur leaned back in his chair. "Tell me your story."

* * *

_(AN: And that's it for this one! Thanks for sticking with it, folks, and keep an eye out for future installments :)_


	22. Of Destiny and Determination

_(AN: Here's a different choice for Merlin in the last episode.)_

* * *

As soon as he saw Arthur sprawled unmoving on the battlefield, Merlin threw back his head and let out a loud roar. It wasn't a roar of grief or anguish, but one of command and power.

In minutes, Kilgarrah was leaning over the king with a very worried de-aged Merlin hovering nearby.

"Merlin," the dragon said coldly. "There is nothing you can do."

"I've failed?" Merlin asked.

"No, young warlock," Kilgarrah replied, "For all that you have dreamt of building has come to pass."

"I can't lose him!" Merlin shouted. "He's my friend!"

"Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin," the dragon said more kindly. "Arthur is not just a king. He is the Once and Future King. Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men."

Merlin allowed himself one moment of silent despair. Then, he turned to the dragon with fire in his eyes.

"No," he said firmly. "This story is not over. I'm done with destiny. I'm done waiting. I've protected Arthur for years now. I've watched him become a great man and a great king. He's fought every day of his life to make Camelot a better place, and now I'm supposed to stand by and watch him die? No. I am the greatest warlock that will ever walk this earth, and I say that Arthur will live!"

The sorcerer lifted his king into his arms and climbed onto the back of a very intimidated dragon.

"Let's go."

* * *

Arthur crawled slowly to consciousness. It was dark, but there was a gentle, flickering light, and he was warm. After a moment, his eyes landed on a familiar person nearby.

"Merlin," he called.

"Arthur," the servant answered, coming over. "How're you feeling?"

The king tried to sit up and answer his friend, but pain sent him reeling and gasping for breath.

"Lie back," Merlin urged, worriedly. "Lie back."

"Where are we?" Arthur said, trying to focus on something other than the pain. They seemed to been on a lakeshore, but Camlann was nowhere near water.

"We're on the island of Avalon," Merlin replied simply. This made no sense to Arthur, but perhaps the pain was muddling his thoughts.

"Where have you been?" Arthur asked, trying and failing to keep the accusation from his voice. Merlin's absence these past few days had troubled him more that he wanted to admit.

"Doesn't matter now," the servant answered. Arthur wanted to press him for more information, but the pain was too great.

"My side," he gasped.

"You are bleeding," Merlin answered.

"That's alright," Arthur said, trying to keep his voice light. "I thought I was dying."

"You're not dying," said Merlin with resolve. "I defeated the Saxons, the dragon, and yet I knew it was Mordred I must stop. I won't let my mistake cost you your life."

Arthur was confused for a moment, then smiled at his idiot of a manservant.

"The person who defeated them was a sorcerer," he explained as simply as he could.

Merlin's eyes filled with tears.

"It was me," Merlin said.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin," the king replied, shaking his head. But the devastation in the servant's face was all too real. "This is stupid. Why would you say that?"

"I'm—" Merlin's voice choked off, and Arthur's heart plummeted. "I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you."

It couldn't be.

"Merlin, you are not a sorcerer," the king insisted. "I would know."

"Look," said the servant turning to the fire. He lifted his hand and spoke words of the Old Religion. His eyes flashed gold, and a dragon appeared in the flames.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

Of all the lies and betrayals Arthur had experienced, none had been more horrible and painful than this. The mortal wound in his side was nothing in comparison.

"Leave me," he said.

"Arthur," said Merlin, reaching for him, but the king couldn't stand it.

"No," he said, flinching back from the stranger before him. "Just—you heard."

The sorcerer moved sadly and obediently away, but turned back to speak.

"Whether you hate me or not, I can't let you die."

Arthur looked away. "It doesn't change anything."

* * *

The next day passed quietly. Arthur lay still, resting, as Merlin explored the islands secrets, spoke with the Sidhe, and search for a way to save Arthur. So far, there was nothing, but the sorcerer was far from giving up hope.

As night fell, Merlin got out his flint and iron to light a fire.

"Why don't you use magic?" Arthur asked. Merlin froze. It was the first time the king had spoken to him all day.

"Habit, I suppose," Merlin answered. He looked at his king. To his astonishment, Arthur gave a nod of consent.

Trying not to get his hopes up, Merlin kindled the flames with a flash of his eyes.

"It feels strange," he admitted.

"Yeah," Arthur agreed.

Well, at least they were talking.

"I thought I knew you," Arthur said dully.

"I'm still the same person," Merlin reasoned.

"I trusted you."

That simple statement stripped away any defense Merlin could offer.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm sorry too," Arthur replied, sounding sincere.

Merlin looked around for something to do, then noticed that Arthur's boot were still wet. He started to tug them off, carefully.

"What are you doing?" Arthur said with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"They need drying," the servant replied. He placed the boot by the fire and walked away. Arthur's puzzled stare followed him into the dark.

* * *

That was it then.

Merlin was out of time. He had scoured all of his knowledge. He had visited the dragon late at night, asking about the oldest spells. He had delved deeply into the heart of magic itself, and still, he had found no way of saving Arthur.

Except one.

The Cup of Life was a dangerous tool. Last time he tried to use it, it had nearly taken his mother and Gaius. But Merlin was no longer the boy he had been, and this time, he knew the cup and fate would bend to his will.

He took a deep steadying breath. Then, his eyes flashed gold.

* * *

Falling rain startled Arthur from his sleep. The drops fell heavy and fast, and Arthur felt that there was something unnatural about them. In moments, the downpour had stopped and Arthur was left dripping and confused.

"Arthur," a voice called from the darkness. He looked up to see Merlin walking toward him. "Have a drink. It'll be good for you."

Merlin lifted Arthur's shoulders and brought a skin of water to the king's lips. Arthur's mouth remained stubbornly closed.

"You need to drink," said Merlin in annoyance.

"Why are you doing this?" Arthur said. "Why are you still behaving like a servant?"

Merlin looked thoughtful as he set the water aside and focused on Arthur.

"It's my destiny," he said. "As it has been since the day we met."

"I tried to take your head off with a mace," Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"And I stopped you," Merlin grinned back. "Using magic."

Arthur looked at the warlock in surprise.

"You cheated," he accused.

"You were going to kill me," Merlin replied, still smirking.

"Shut up," said Arthur. He couldn't joke about killing Merlin. Not now.

"Glad you didn't," the servant said seriously.

Arthur gave a small laugh.

"I do this because of who you are," Merlin said. He had that fervent, wise look again. "Without you, Camelot's nothing."

"There was a time when that was true," said Arthur. "Not now. There are many who can fill the crown." Like Gwen. How he wanted to see her again…

"Never be another like you, Arthur," said Merlin, cutting through his thoughts. Arthur looked in his friend's face and saw that he meant it.

"Though I also do this," said Merlin, taking up the water again, "Because you're my friend and I don't want to lose you."

Somehow, that made things… better. Not fully alright, not the way they once were, but better.

Arthur drank. He was so lost in thought, that he didn't notice Merlin's sigh of relief.

"Why did you never tell me?" the king asked.

"I wanted to, but—" Merlin paused, wincing slightly.

"What?" asked Arthur, feeling a bit more strength in his voice.

"You'd've chopped my head of," Merlin said simply.

He helped Arthur take another drink.

"Not sure what I'd've done," the king said honestly.

"And I didn't want to put you in that position," said the servant.

"That's what worried you?" asked Arthur, but it really wasn't that surprising. Not coming from Merlin.

"Some men are born to plant fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings," Merlin's eyes shone with sincerity. "Me, I was born to serve to you, Arthur. And I'm proud of that. And I wouldn't change a thing."

Arthur was stunned into silence by the speech.

"So," he said finally, "You're not an idiot. That was another lie."

"No," said Merlin, smiling, "Just another part of my charm."

Merlin helped him take another drink, and after another moment of thought, the king spoke again.

"All these years, Merlin," he said, "You never sought any credit."

"That's not why I do it," said Merlin as he stood and put away the empty water skin. "You ought to rest."

"I'm the king, Merlin. You can't tell me what to do," Arthur said, though he was feeling very drowsy.

"I always have," Merlin said, sitting nearby stiffly. "I'm not going to change now."

"I don't want you to change," said Arthur, and some part of his brain told him to shut up and go to sleep before he embarrassed himself, but he ignored it. "I want you to always be you. I'm sorry about how I treated you."

He could barely keep his eyes open, but he heard Merlin's strained laugh.

"So does that mean you're going to give me a day off?" the servant asked.

"Two," Arthur replied.

"That's generous," came Merlin's breathy reply. Arthur wanted to say something back, but he was just too tired. "Get some sleep."

And Arthur slept.

* * *

It was dark when Arthur woke. That was strange. Merlin had been careful to keep the fire lit through every night.

"Merlin?" he said, sitting up. It took him a moment to register that he had gotten upright on his own and was experiencing no pain. He squinted through the blackness of night, trying to understand what was happening. His eyes adjusted to the dim light of early dawn and landed on a pale, still figure.

"Merlin!" he quickly scrambled over to the warlock, lifting him by the shoulders. His friend was limp and cold, but his eyes opened and regarded his king tiredly. "You idiot! What have you done?"

"Couldn't let you die," the servant whispered. "Cup of Life. Me instead."

"No," said Arthur, horror growing in his stomach. "There's got to be another way!"

"No, Arthur," said Merlin. "No other way… you have to live."

"That isn't your choice to make!" Arthur shouted. "I don't want this! Take it back!"

"Even if I could… I wouldn't…"

"Will you never learn to follow orders?"

"Apparently not," the servant said in a breathy laugh.

"Merlin, please," Arthur said, swallowing back tears. "You can't leave. Not like this."

"How else?" asked the servant with a lopsided grin. "It's alright, Arthur. I'm happy," Merlin's eyes lost focus as his heartbeat became weaker. "Happy to be your servant. Till the day I die."

"Not today, Merlin," Arthur said. "You're not dying today."

Merlin's eyes regained focus and locked on Arthur's. The king could argue with words and facts, but he could not deny the acceptance and peace in his servant's steady gaze. Arthur looked around helplessly for some means of escape, some way to fix this, but there was no stopping what the most powerful sorcerer in history had set it into motion. There was only one thing he could do.

Say goodbye.

The king closed his eyes for a moment, gathering strength. Then, he looked down at his oldest and truest friend.

"Merlin," he said, not caring about the tears that blurred his vision. "Everything you've done, I know now. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you've helped me build."

"You'd have done it without me," Merlin gasped out.

"Maybe," Arthur said, smiling. Merlin gave a strained laugh. "I want to say something I haven't said to you before. Thank you."

Merlin gave one last warm grin before his eyes slipped closed. Arthur could feel every breath and heart beat of the warlock in his arms. He felt as Merlin's lungs stuttered and struggled to draw air. He felt the most loyal and courageous heart he had ever known flicker and fade, like a lamp burning itself dry.

"So, you've done it."

Arthur whipped his head around toward the voice. There stood Morgana, grinning madly. The king set Merlin down and drew his sword, standing between his friend and the witch.

"Stay back," Arthur threatened.

"I don't take orders from you, Arthur Pendragon," Morgana spat. Her eyes flashed gold, and Arthur felt himself flying backwards. He hit the ground hard, and lay panting for a moment, disoriented.

"I've been trying for _years_ to get rid of this pest," the sorceress said moving to stand beside Merlin's unmoving form. "Turns out I should have just left him to you. A day in your company, and the mighty Emrys has fallen."

The witch kicked Merlin onto his back, watching with sick joy as his body rolled lifelessly.

Arthur saw red.

In a moment, the king was on his feet and moving in on the sorceress, sword at the ready.

"Oh, yes," Morgana smirked. "I could use some more entertainment today."

"You were once a sister to me, Morgana," Arthur said. "But after all the pain and death you've caused, after all the cruelty, I will not hesitate to cut you down."

Fear flashed for a moment in Morgana's eyes. Then she laughed.

"I am a High Priestess of the Old Religion," she said. "No mortal blade can kill me."

But Arthur knew that this was no ordinary blade. This was the sword that had won Camelot back. He had defended his people and his friends with it. Merlin had led him to this sword.

He lunged.

Morgana's eyes widened in shock as the blade found its mark. She gasped a dying breath, and for an instant, Arthur saw the girl from all those years ago—the kind and courageous Morgana he had once known. Then, the light left her eyes, and she fell down dead.

For a moment, Arthur stood silent in shock and grief, looking down at the two greatest magicians of all time. Both were dead because of him. Wouldn't his father be proud?

Rain fell.

How fitting.

Suddenly, a gasping breath tore through the stillness.

"Merlin!" Arthur scrambled over to his friend, who was sitting up and shaking the water out of his eyes.

"Arthur," the warlock said. "What—"

He broke off as his eyes landed on the dead sorceress.

"Oh," Merlin said. Grim understanding filled his eyes. "The balance is restored."

"Come on," Arthur said, pulling the servant to his feet. After a moment of indecision, he pulled his friend into a hug. Breaking apart, both men started to laugh. "I can't believe we made it through all that alive!"

"We'll both live to see peace in Albion," Merlin said. "And if fate doesn't like it, tough turnips."

"Right—wait what?"

"Never mind."

"'Tough turnips?'"

"It's an expression."

"Like clot pole?"

"Yes, Arthur. You need to get more in touch with the vernacular of your people."

"Speaking of which, how are we going to get back to Camelot?"

"Well… how do you feel about flying?"

"…what?"

"Remember the Great Dragon?"

"Merlin, I think I can be counted on to remember any giant magical beast I kill."

"Well…"

"Wait, what are you saying? I didn't kill the dragon?"

"You came very close. You did your best."

"Don't patronize me. So the Great Dragon is still alive, roaming through Albion!?"

"Look on the bright side: if he wasn't, you'd have to walk all the way back to Camelot."

"..."

"..."

"…we're going to have a lot of conversations like this, aren't we?"

Merlin grinned.

"I hope so, sire," he said happily. "I certainly hope so."

* * *

_(AN: Thanks for reading, and if you loved the finale, I'm very happy for you, and you need not read the rest of this note. If you weren't so keen on it, I hope you enjoyed my version. I started this chapter with every intention of killing Merlin in Arthur's stead, but I couldn't do it. I like happy endings. Yes, Arthur dies after Camlann in the legend, but since when has this show been true to the legend? I'm not saying this version is better, and I was fine with the show's ending. But I didn't want to be 'fine' with it. I wanted to be blown away, or at least satisfied. So I guess we'll just have to keep writing to give these characters the stories they deserve. Let's keep the fandom going :)_


	23. Intervention

Percival listened to Gwaine's plan with growing incredulity.

"So, you want to go and attack Morgana?"

"Right."

"Just the two of us?"

"Yeah."

"Against the sorceress that killed half our army?!"

"Well, when you say it like _that_, of course it sounds ridiculous."

"Believe me, it sounds ridiculous all on its own."

"No, don't worry, I have a plan."

"Really. What's the plan?"

Gwaine leaned forward conspiratorially.

"We'll sneak up on her," he whispered.

"And then…?"

"I don't know, stab her or something! We can figure that out on the way. We've got to leave soon or she'll escape!"

Percival crossed his arms and scrutinized the man before him.

"Have you been drinking?" the larger knight asked.

"What? No!" said Gwaine, waving his hand dismissively. The action caused him to stagger into a suit of armor, and Percival gave him a skeptical look.

"Maybe a bit," Gwaine admitted. "Look, a woman that I cared for betrayed me and then was _executed._ I'm not at my best. But come on! It's still a good plan."

"No," said Percival firmly. "It's not a good plan. It was never a good plan. I'm not going to throw my life away chasing that witch, and neither are you. She's taken too much already."

"I can't just sit here! I need to do something," Gwaine said, looking rebellious, but after a moment, the fight went out of his eyes. "What am I supposed to do?" His shoulders slumped, and he slid down the stone wall to sit on the floor.

"Here's what we're going to do," Percival said, sitting down next to his friend. "We're going to go down to the kitchen, get some food in you, and then you're going to get some rest. And then, we'll wait for Arthur and Merlin to get back. And until they do, we'll stay here, where we belong, we'll serve our queen. There will come a time for vengeance, Gwaine, but this isn't it."

Gwaine met Percival's eyes and nodded. He allowed his friend to pull him to his feet, and the two set off down the corridor together.

* * *

_(AN: Honestly, Gwaine's death ticked me off more than Arthur's. In the legend, Arthur dies, and it was a triumphant though sad death on the show. Gwaine was tortured to death and died knowing that he'd betrayed his king, country, and close friend. Not. Cool. So much of his character was left unexplored, and it was such a pointless way to die. Blech. Anyhow, thanks for reading!)_


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